


wear you down

by limned



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 20:39:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limned/pseuds/limned
Summary: A simple fibula fracture in her ankle meant that she obviously needed assistance getting out of the shower.





	wear you down

She hadn't had any trouble getting from HQ to her apartment on a single crutch, so when she called, “Clint, will you give me a hand?” through the half-open bathroom door, he almost wanted to yell back: _Natasha, how stupid do you think I am?_

He didn’t, because it wouldn’t help this process at all, but he did take an extra second to brace himself before going in.

The shower turned off and Natasha pushed the curtain aside, dripping wet, balancing on her good foot. “Help me get out? It’s slippery.”

“Sure,” Clint said. He stepped beside the tub and put one arm around her back, careful support as she swung the walking boot over the side and hopped out. Because she needed the support, of course. Because she’d never scaled an eight-story building with a broken leg and a gunshot wound to kill a whole platoon of A.I.M. soldiers, so a simple fibula fracture in her ankle meant that she obviously needed assistance getting out of the shower. Yeah. Of course she did.

“Thanks,” Natasha murmured. Her hand was still wrapped around his shoulder and she looked up at him, leaning into his side as she twisted a little to regain her balance. Her skin was warm and wet under his fingers. He could pick her up, set her on the sink counter and use his tongue to follow the water trickling down her breasts, and keep going.

“Pizza’s on the way,” he said instead, and made sure she was steady on her feet before he let go.

He didn’t miss the flash of irritation that crossed her face as he leaned away to grab a towel. Natasha had schooled it into a neutral expression by the time he turned back. “That’s good. I’m starving,” she said, and if her voice was lower and huskier than it should be for a regular comment like that, he wasn’t listening, and he handed her the towel.

Clint was almost out of the bathroom when she said, just a hint of challenge in her voice, “Can you unwrap my cast for me?”

He looked back to find her propped against the wall, holding out her injured ankle with the plastic bag fastened around it. His eyes moved involuntarily down the curved length of her body, drops of water caught on her pink nipples and sliding over the lean line of her stomach and between her legs, and he could see every detail of kneeling at her feet to handle that request, exactly how it would go, her taste in his mouth and the strained noises she would make, the way she would slide her fingers into his hair and haul him closer.

“I think you can handle it,” he said lightly. “I’ll go wait for the pizza.”

There was a significant silence from the bathroom after he left. Clint ignored it very deliberately and sprawled on the couch to turn on the TV. The back of his head itched a little when he heard movement; it wasn’t impossible that she might start throwing things at him, but he didn’t look over his shoulder, concentrating hard on a _Law & Order_ episode until the sounds moved into her bedroom.

She came out when he was in the middle of paying for the pizza. He knew it almost before he registered the shuffling of her crutch, because the delivery guy’s eyes moved over his shoulder and widened in appreciation. “Thanks, man. Have a good night,” Clint said pointedly, holding out the tip, trying not to grin as the kid reddened and looked away fast.

When he shut the door and turned around with the pizza, Natasha was wearing one of his t-shirts. Of course she was: she knew what that did to him.

His t-shirt and a pair of black boyshort panties that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs to peek out under the shirt, and he fully understood why the delivery kid couldn’t help staring.

“You want water or soda?” he asked.

Natasha looked at him as he set the pizza box on the coffee table. “Water,” she said, finally, and he could feel her still watching him as he walked to the kitchen.

It was the least surprising thing in history when he came back with drinks and napkins and she moved right up next to him on the couch. Clint had to nudge her aside to lean forward for the pizza, and as he was sitting back, her hand closed along the inside of his thigh. “Nat, come on. Time for food. We haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he said, quiet and mild, keeping his eyes focused on the TV as he started eating.

She waited a few seconds before saying levelly, “You’re starting to piss me off, you know.”

“I know,” he said, and watched Lennie Briscoe yelling at a construction worker until she gave up and reached for her own slice. He could see the tiny tense lines around her eyes as she did it: lines that had nothing to do with being pissed off at him.

She tried again after he finished most of the pie, nudging closer and kissing under his jaw, gliding her fingertips down over his stomach. “Nat,” he said, and when she leaned up to kiss him, he shifted to deflect so her lips landed on his cheek, and caught her hand and held it, touching her knuckles gently with the tip of his thumb.

They sat there for a while longer until Natasha let out a harsh breath and said, “All _right_. Fine. You win.”

Clint was reaching for the end table before she finished snapping at him, shaking out two pills and handing them over with her water bottle right behind it.

He wasn’t stupid enough to give her a hard time afterward, either; he only eased down on the couch and pulled her against his chest, brushed his lips against the corner of her eye and whispered over-dramatically, “ _Thank_ you,” and let her laugh at him before he kissed her for real.

**Author's Note:**

> I could not resist the idea of Clint withholding sex to make Natasha take her pain medication.


End file.
